


Fever Dream

by Just_trying_to_be_HAPPY



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dadza, Father Phil anyone?, Sick Fic, We love family dynamics in this house, i guess this is more of an irl fic, maybe?? - Freeform, no use of real names for Techno tho, theyre not actually related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:08:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27664481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_trying_to_be_HAPPY/pseuds/Just_trying_to_be_HAPPY
Summary: The sleepy boys all live together, a mutual agreement that they could all produce better and more frequent content and that they’d be a lot less lonely.Techno never really learned how to take care of himself, only others. He gets sick and doesn’t know what to do. Thank god he has his makeshift family there to help him.
Relationships: FAMILY DYNAMIC BABEYYYYYYY
Comments: 7
Kudos: 374





	Fever Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Wow hey guess who’s back,, it’s been a few days huh  
> I kinda live for the family vibe with the sleepy boys, not adopted or found family, but more of like,,, a chosen family. They all still love and talk to their bio families, they just live together and chill, ya know?  
> Anyways, decided to write and post this cause it’s been stuck in my head :)

It’s just another Thursday. No dinner planned, no movie night, nothing like that. Thursday’s are work days, Friday’s are off days. Just another Thursday where each member of the house would edit videos or stream for hours. 

Just another Thursday. 

At least, that’s what Techno tried to tell himself to force himself out of bed. 

He’s been awake for not even ten minutes, but his head feels like lead and his body doesn’t want to move. He knows he’s sick. It’s been building up over the week, he’d just hoped it’d go away. 

It’s Wilbur who knocks first. “Hey, Phil’s making breakfast if you want some. Some shit about starting the day right, old man stuff.” And just like that, he’s gone. Just another Thursday, but he feels like absolute shit. 

It took another ten minutes to manage to sit on the edge of his bed, and five more to actually stand. He wobbled, yeah, but he’d never admit it. The walk to his door was hellishly long, even though he didn’t have to bother changing his clothes. 

The bathroom was two doors down from his, and thank god it was empty. It took a little too long to brush his teeth, but no one else was waiting. He did almost fall a few times, given that his head felt about ten times heavier than normal. But it was no matter. He’d still get his work done no matter how he felt. 

Tommy was the one who greeted him, sitting at the dining room table with a plate loaded with pancakes, sausage, and hash browns. “Hey, big man. You look like shit.” Off camera Tommy was very different from on camera Tommy. The shouting left in favor of soft spoken, the hyper movements turned more subdued. Kid was like two different people. 

Techno just hummed in response, not trusting his voice. Wilbur was moving to set his own plate down when he looked at Techno. “Shit, Tech, you do look rough.” The tallest of the bunch moved to press the back of his hand to Techno’s forehead, furrowing his brows when Techno shifted away. 

“M fine.” He winced, yeah, he shouldn’t have trusted his voice. Rough and scratchy, very much not pleasant. “Like hell you are, sit.” Phil was beside him now, ushering him into one of the remaining chairs. Techno groaned, wanting nothing more than to just get to work. Phil pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, stilling for a moment. He frowned and pulled his hand away, moving it to hold the back of his head. 

Techno wanted to throw a fit when he felt Phil press his lips to his forehead, of course he’d do that. That’s what his mother use to do, and he was the closest thing to a mother hen Techno had ever seen. “You’re burning up.” Phil looked him up and down, from the over sized t shirt to the worn out flannel pants. “Oh shit, is he sick?” Tommy asked, lifting his fork with his head cocked to the side. 

“Finish eating, guys. Tech, head back to your room. I’ll bring you soup in a few minutes.” Techno went to protest, but the fatherly glare made him reconsider. “I’ll be there in a sec, let me finish my sausage.” Tommy said, lifting the patty for emphasis. Phil led him back to his room, even going as far as to tuck him under the covers. 

Tommy stayed true to his word, sitting on the floor beside Techno’s bed. “You’re shit at taking care of yourself, ya know that?” Tommy shifted to look at Techno. “You take care of us when we need it but you don’t know how to do that to yourself.” He was met with a hum. “Tommy, you forget that I’m the oldest of three. I never learned how to take care of myself because I always took care of my siblings.” He sighed and set his glasses on the bedside table. 

They remained in silence until Phil knocked on the door, one hand gripping the handle of a soup bowl. “It’s not the best, had to use a can, but it’ll do. Sit up.” Techno did as told, Tommy moving to stand out of Phil’s way. 

Techno reached for the bowl but Phil moves it away. He was met with a confused stare. “Tech, I don’t trust you to just sit here and eat soup without burning yourself. You’re gonna have to forgive me for this.” Techno took a moment to process before his eyes widened. “You’re not spoon feeding me, Phil.” He shook his head, brows furrowing. “It’s either me or Tommy. Wilbur’s still eating.” He groaned again. “I’m a grown man. I can use a spoon,” he whined. 

It took about another minute of convincing and a few vague threats from Tommy for Techno to accept his fate. “Open.” Phil held the spoon in front of Techno’s mouth. He did as told, embarrassed as he was. As much as he’d hate to admit it, it was comforting. Tommy had moved to the foot of the bed, laying across it, Phil was sitting on the edge. 

It went on for a little longer than it should’ve, given that Wilbur was there before the bowl was drained and he was the slowest eater of the four. The energy in the room was different from usual. The house was almost always a mix of chaotic calm, but it just felt soft. It felt tender and comforting, it felt safe. 

Phil set the bowl on the table beside Techno’s glasses, tucking him back in. He was nearing the point of delusion, his sickness finally having caught up to him. Techno leaned into every touch, not bothering to hold back anything. He was half asleep when Phil went to stand. “Don’t leave me,” he whined, eyes barely open, pouting. “Don’t wanna be alone.” And the other three just about melted. They’d never seen Techno express anything like that. Even when he was the one tending to the sick. 

“I’ll stay, Tech. Do you want Tommy and Wilbur here too?” Phil’s smile was warm, his tone was that of a man speaking to a child. He supposed Techno was about the equivalent of a child at the moment, albeit a giant. He nodded and shifted under the blanket. “I’ll be back in a sec, Techno.” Wilbur excused himself with a fond smile. He came back with his guitar, sitting by the bed. 

There was no particular song he played, no words were even sung, but Techno just felt safer and safer. Tommy was on his stomach, typing away on his phone but still there nonetheless. Phil was carding his fingers through Techno’s hair, watching his eyes struggle to stay open. 

“Read me a story, dad.” It was mumbled and nearly inaudible. Everyone but Techno froze. “Come again?” Phil asked, unsure of his ears. “Read me a story, dad. I wanna story.” He’d reached the fine line where he had no clue as to what he was saying. “Uh, right. What story do you want to hear?” Phil looked at the others, surprised but happy smile on his face. “Mm, pick one from the shelf.” 

It was a Harry Potter book, surprisingly. Phil opened it to the first chapter and began to read aloud. Wilbur was still strumming various notes, all of which were blending together into some sort of familiar tune. Tommy was just watching Techno, eyes bright and smile genuine. Phil did different voices for different characters, even if his range wasn’t the best. 

“M gonna fall ‘sleep,” Techno was barely holding on to consciousness. “Night, dad. Love you,” Phil couldn’t hold back the smile. “I love you too, Tech. Sleep tight.” He stayed until Techno was snoring softly, face relaxed and body void of tension. 

The three left the room as quiet as they could, smiles wide as could be. 

Techno woke the next day feeling considerably more alive than the day before. When he walked to the kitchen for breakfast, he was confused at his friends expressions. “Morning, Tech.” Wilbur had a wide smile, Tommy wore a toothy grin, and Phil? Well, Phil just looked like he’d been given everything he could ever want. He chose not to ask, instead settling for a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice. 

-

Techno would come to realize why they were acting so strange in the coming weeks. He’d slipped up and called Phil ‘dad’ when asking if he’d seen a missing book. 

Phil laughed when he stuttered out apologies. “It’s not the first time you’ve called me that, Tech. Don’t worry about it. And no, I have seen your green book, Wilbur might’ve.” Techno stared at Phil with a mix of confusion and surprise. “What do you mean it’s not the first time I’ve done it?” And with that led to the short story of him damn near delusional asking for Phil to read to him. 

As embarrassed as he felt, Techno took comfort in the fact that Phil let the three call him ‘dad’. 

In a way, they really were a mismatched family.


End file.
